Sweete Soueraigne sith so many mynds remayne

Obedient subiects at thy beautyes call

So many thoughts bound in thy hayre as thrall

So many hearts dye with one lookes disdayne.

Goe seeke that glorie which doth thee pertayne

That the fift monarchie may thee befall

Thow hast such meanes to conquer men withall

As all the world must yeeld or else be slayne.

To fight thow needst no weapons but thyne eyes

Thy hayre hath gold enough to pay thy men

And for theyre foode thy beautie will suffice

For men and armoure (Ladie) care haue none

For one will soonest yeeld vnto thee then

When he shall meet thee naked and alone.